


For What It's Worth

by DeGuerre



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Dorks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Past Sexual Assault, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Life Partners, Platonic Soulmates, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeGuerre/pseuds/DeGuerre
Summary: After the team is restored to life-size, a celebration is in order, but Rita Farr is nowhere to be found.  When Larry finds her, she's in no mood for celebrating.
Relationships: Rita Farr & Larry Trainor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	For What It's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> I apparently live in a house of angst and sadness, but I always try to leave them happy at the end. I adore these two and their friendship so much and Pain Patrol gave me everything I've ever wanted from it.

While Dorothy laughed at Cliff, Jane, and Vic fighting over what music to play for their impromptu party, Larry put the finishing touches on the buffet feast he’d set up. Having the team return to life-size was cause for celebration and he was happy to be able to cook full-sized meals again. Tiny food was tedious. He looked over his shoulder expecting to see Rita first in line for food as usual, but she wasn’t there. As he thought about it, he realized it had been quite a while since he’d seen her.

Just as the Chief had warned, the transformation had been tiring, and it was especially so for Rita. Her metabolism catching up with her body had left her so drained she fainted as soon as she’d tried to stand. Cliff caught her before she could hit the floor. She’d retreated to her room to get cleaned up and rest, but that had been hours ago. Larry decided to check her room first, but she wasn’t there. He checked her favorite knitting corner, the sitting room where she liked to watch her movies, their favorite bench in the garden—she was nowhere to be found. He was starting to get worried until he heard a soft sniffle as he passed the library.

There she was, sitting in the dark, illuminated only by the small slivers of moonlight breaking through the curtains. She looked tiny slumped there on the large leather sofa with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She must have sensed him there because she didn’t startle when he rested his hand between her shoulder blades and began to rub in gentle circles.

“Rita? What’s wrong?” he asked, concern filling his voice. “If you’re not feeling well, you should go back to bed and rest more. I can bring your food up to you.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a heavy sigh before raising her head to look back at him. “Just nursing a headache.”

The headache wasn’t a lie, he always could see the pain behind her eyes, but the tear streaks on her cheeks told him there was more to it than that. He made his way around the sofa and took a seat on the table directly in front of her.

“A headache and what else?” he asked. “Don’t even think about lying. I know you, Rita.”

“I know you do,” she replied with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “It's _very_ annoying.”

Larry said nothing, just stared at her until she started to squirm under his relentless gaze.

“Fine, Larry, I’ll talk! Stop looking at me like that! It’s just…it’s such a silly thing.”

“Rita, if it upsets you enough to make you cry it isn’t silly. Spill it,” he replied, shifting to a seat beside her on the sofa.

“It’s just…I was thinking about Flex Mentallo and Dolores—about how he loved her so much and how he grieved for her when he lost her…” she reached for Larry’s hand and he squeezed it reassuringly. “I don’t know why, but I just can’t stop thinking about how there won’t ever be anyone to grieve for me like that. No one has ever loved me that much, or at all if I’m truly being honest here.”

Tears had started to spill from her eyes again and Larry wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tightly into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and a hand against his chest as she felt the weight of sadness settle in her own.

“What about Mento? You two were an item for a while, right?” Larry asked.

“What I had with Steve was…something, but it wasn’t love. A man who loves you doesn’t violate and betray you,” she replied hoarsely, angrily wiping away tears.

“He didn’t—did he? I don’t care that he’s a senile old man, I’ll go kill him right now if he did!”

“No, no, calm down. You too,” she said, pointing a stern finger at the angry blue light coming from Larry’s chest. “ _He_ didn’t do that. _He_ just violated my mind and my trust. Steve Dayton was a pompous ass, but he never laid a hand on me without consent.”

Larry wanted to say something silly—an “eww” to break the seriousness and tension of the moment—but the way she’d emphasized “he” was ringing in his ears. Steve Dayton hadn’t violated her in that way, but someone had.

“But someone did. Rita, I’m so sorry. I—,” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

“I was a young woman in Hollywood at a time when women didn’t have a voice and powerful men weren’t held accountable for their actions. Terrible things happened; I survived. Please don’t make me talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said quietly, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “but if you ever want to, I’m here.”

“You always are and thank you for caring so much. I don’t think I’m ready for a crowd yet. Will you sit with me for a while?” she asked hopefully.

His response was to settle into a position more comfortable for both of them and start stroking her back soothingly. He was more than happy to comply. As much as they both loved the others, sometimes it was overwhelming having so many people in the house. Sometimes they longed for the quiet and calm of the days when it was just the two of them.

“For what it’s worth, I would have married you, you know,” Larry stated matter-of-factly. “If our paths had crossed sooner—before Cheryl and the boys—I would have married you for sure.”

“Oh really,” Rita drawled, raising her head from his shoulder and quirking a perfect eyebrow at him curiously.

“Of course! Think about it…a whirlwind romance between the hotshot pilot and the gorgeous starlet…it would have been the perfect Hollywood love affair, Ms. Farr.”

Rita laughed. A real laugh. The kind where she threw her head back, pressed a hand to her chest and her eyes sparkled. All traces of sadness were instantly gone. “I’ve seen your pictures, Mr. Trainor, you were quite dashing. I would have been the talk of the town with you beside me dressed to the nines on every red carpet.”

“Oh, it would have been a torrid love affair. I can’t change who I am, but we understand each other so well. We’d dodge questions about children in public while carrying on in private with our secret lovers, but I would have loved you then like I love you now. We would have always come home to each other. We would have grown old together.”

“It would have been lovely,” she said softly, a bit of sadness returning.

“Come on, doll. Enough moping,” Larry said, jumping to his feet, and holding out his hand to help Rita up. “What do you say we go put on some Cab Calloway and show the young whippersnappers how to swing?”

“I think that sounds like a marvelous idea, darling,” Rita replied, taking his proffered arm, “but you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”

Now it was Larry’s turn to laugh.

Fin.


End file.
